The battlefield around the West Gate was chaos incarnate. Rubble smoldered where ogres had
fallen, red-eyed wolves twitched in pools of corrupted blood, and the tainted air shimmered like
heated glass.
But towering above it all, Vorgas, the Hollowborn Juggernaut, bellowed with a roar that shook
the city walls.
Its bark-armor glowed with molten veins, crimson mist rolling off its shoulders like steam
venting from a fractured volcano.
Ethan skidded backward across cracked flagstones, Warlord's Fang raised in a defensive arc.
His chest heaved, sweat beading and dripping from his jaw. His hair was damp and tousled,
shadows dancing across his sharp features.
The monstrous behemoth stomped forward, claws leaving molten footprints in the ground,
each step quaking like a minor earthquake. Its triple eyes pulsed in a dissonant rhythm, like
separate hearts beating out of sync.
"Heh… why the hell aren't you dying already?" Ethan growled, lips curling into a sharp, slightly
